


Gifts for Friends

by Anonymous



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Collection of short fics for friends.
Relationships: Aoi Hinata/Suou Tsukasa, Hibiki Wataru/Tenshouin Eichi, Mikejima Madara/Tsukinaga Leo, Ran Nagisa/Saegusa Ibara
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Wataru/Eichi

It was already dark when Eichi became aware of the faint tapping on one of the large windows behind him. Student Council work was a never-ending chore, and like other nights (ones on which he waited carefully for Keito to leave first so he couldn’t be scolded for “endangering his health”), he was trying to catch up on the backlog they had amassed. Winter festivity-based lives were a staple among units who desired an S3 held, and if he wasn’t buried with so much work because of it, he’d be even more delighted at the show of creativity and effort that all the budding idols were displaying. 

But now, it was cold, his eyes were drooping, and he’d nearly fallen completely asleep on the documents before the tapping had startled him out of his dozing. 

He pushed himself up, grip tight on the edges of the smooth wooden table, and opened the window in an automatic motion to allow the dove to enter. She flew with trained precision onto his shoulder, cooing as Eichi extended a finger to stroke her head. “Did you come alone, Jeanne?” he asked, and she responded by fluffing up her feathers and snuggling into the side of his neck. He let out a soft laugh in reply, withdrawing his finger and watching as her dark little eyes opened to watch him again. “You must be cold, having flown all that way... But I mustn’t keep him waiting longer, hm?” Another coo, and Eichi turned back to his desk, eyeing the documents he still had left to sort through. While he was tempted to sit back down and attend to them, his energy somewhat refreshed by the dovely encounter, he could do them another time, and Jeanne’s presence was reminding him of the warmth he could be indulging in back home. 

The slight feeling of a beak poking into his throat—

“I understand, I’m going back now,” he reassured, and Jeanne merely ruffled her feathers once more, watching as Eichi picked his bag back up and unlocked his phone to call his ride. 

It took mere minutes until he was outside the house, giving the chauffeur a wave of thanks before turning and observing what had occurred to its exterior. Lights strewn everywhere along the roof, matching the tree peeking out from the curtains within; a light show that he was sure outshone any other along the block. 

It didn’t take long to find the culprit; Wataru was bundled up in a heap of blankets on the couch in the living room, intently watching the screen as Eichi entered the room. Wataru noticing him was like an additional lightbulb bursting to life, excitement that would have brought an utter mess to the blankets had Wataru not been deliberate in even his most exuberant actions. “Eichi, you have returned!” he exclaimed as he stood, and Jeanne fluttered to his side with a coo. Eichi almost missed the feathers warming his throat until Wataru threw a blanket across his shoulders, pulling him closer. “What would your right-hand man say about this?” he scolded lightly, and Eichi looked away with a faint pout. 

“He would have done the same thing, that hypocrite.” 

Wataru agreed with a grin, but led Eichi to the couch to be bundled by more blankets. 

And as the final countdown began, Eichi leaned against him, wondering what the next year would be like. A blank slate, no—he knew better than to think that a simple year’s change would erase all the wrongdoings of the previous. But maybe, he didn’t even need a blank slate, a new start. Maybe he didn’t have to think that far.

Maybe now, all he needed was the warmth by his side as the countdown hit 0.


	2. Hinata/Tsukasa

Tsukasa tapped his foot impatiently as he stood beneath the passage, straying snow crunching quietly beneath his shoe. It was quite a terrible time for his driver to have run into traffic; with the snowfall picking up, the wind howling through the passage tunnel, and his phone being uncharacteristically dead due to forgetting to charge it the night before, Tsukasa could only crossly wait in view of the school entrance, peering into the distance hopefully for any sign of the car’s arrival. _If Tori-kun saw me now, he’d be sneering most unpleasantly_ , he thought wryly, hunching over slightly in both an effort to obscure his face and to stay warm. 

His preoccupation with his thoughts, however, caused him to miss the faint tap of footsteps behind him, and he let out a stifled (but most undignified) shriek as he felt cold hands press into his neck. Leaping back, a scowl forming on his face, he prepared himself to scold his assailant. The words he had prepared, however, died on his tongue as Hinata’s face came into view, bearing a cheeky smile so like him that Tsukasa couldn’t help but sigh, his irritation draining. “You truly are too mischievous for your own good sometimes,” he huffed, and Hinata’s grin only grew in response. 

“Well, you were being such an easy target! What’s got you down, Tsukasa-kun? Something up?” He nudged Tsukasa with his shoulder as he shuffled closer, shivering exaggeratedly. “Isn’t it like, way too cold to be out here?”

“Indeed. It is, however, my own folly that has led to this situation,” Tsukasa admitted, again casting a longing gaze towards the entrance. No car in sight. “I’m afraid that due to my forgetfulness, my phone has died, and I do not yet have this chauffeur's number memorized yet. I do not know when they will arrive, so I must stay here and watch for them.” 

Hinata whistled. “A chauffeur, huh? Fancy, fancy~” He hummed, expression thoughtful. “So you can’t just borrow someone’s phone, huh? Quite a pickle you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“I know,” Tsukasa muttered, trying to fight off the feelings of a mildly injured pride. It wasn’t the worst mess he’d gotten himself into, and he had been trying to accept the help of others when he could, but the sting of knowing he could do better wasn’t a pleasant feeling. 

Caught in his thoughts again, he returned to reality only when he felt Hinata lightly nudge his shoulder with his own. “But since you’re out here anyway, you’re cold, right?” the other ventured, eyes not quite meeting Tsukasa’s. “So like, wanna use my scarf while you wait?”

“I couldn’t take your scarf from you! Then _you_ would be cold,” Tsukasa protested, crossing his arms. “What kind of knight would I be, taking another’s warmth? I refuse.”

“Aw, c’mon. I’m fine! You were shivering pretty bad before I got here, though,” Hinata pointed out. “Anyway, we’re friends, right? What kinda friend would I be if I just left you cold?”

Tsukasa turned away stubbornly. Hinata was quiet for a moment before his voice reappeared, almost hesitantly. “We could share the scarf, then? Like, just until your chauffeur gets here. Then we’re both warm, right?”

Tsukasa felt his cheeks heat up, and he remained firmly facing away from Hinata. _Share_ it? It was true that Hinata was making a reasonable point; this way, both of them would be warm. But... His hands gripped his uniform jacket as he thought. It was too close, but... Hinata was a friend, and he was worried about him. This was a solution that didn’t hurt either of them... Maybe it was fine. Hinata was just offering it as a friend, after all. All Tsukasa had to do was not make a fool of himself. It was easy enough.

He turned back to Tsukasa with as natural of a smile as he could muster. “While it is quite embarrassing to not be equipped for this weather myself, I accept. Thank you for your kindness, Hinata-kun.”

“Anytime!” Hinata chirped, voice cracking slightly at the end, as he hastily unraveled his scarf and handed the end of it to Tsukasa. “Here, it’s nice and warm, so this’ll make waiting easier.”

“I’m sure it will,” Tsukasa easily replied, wrapping the other end of the scarf around his neck. It truly was immediately warmer, whether it was truly the soft fabric of the scarf or the proximity to Hinata, now closer than simply the touch of their shoulders. 

It was quiet, the snow was falling, and even though Tsukasa was still anxious to get home, he privately thought that maybe, situations like these were sometimes for the better. The warmth made him drowsy, but knowing who was next to him...

Well, a knight was always in training, and Tsukasa’s next foe was his own embarrassment.


	3. Madara/Leo

Leo flopped onto the bed with gusto, laughing as he rolled over and pressed his face into the blankets. “Aah, it’s so soft! A bed fit for a king!” he declared, staying still for only a single moment before he began to wriggle again. “Inspiration, a flood of inspiration! The softness of an alpaca’s fur, a cloak of velvet and shiny gold to match! A king as he retires from the public eye... Mama! Gimme a pen! Anything!”

“Just be good and keep it to the paper, okay?” Madara replied amiably, tossing over a notebook and pen in Leo’s direction. “The nice hotel owner is letting us stay for a discount since I helped them a while back, so I’d like for us to stay friends!”

Leo made a valiant attempt at catching the two projectiles, mostly succeeding only in flopping back like a fish and having the pen land on his stomach. “Yep! ‘Cause Mama’s gonna make 100 friends!” He rolled to grab the pen and flipped open the notebook impatiently, flipping through its haphazardly-filled pages with seemingly little rhythm until he reached a place he was satisfied with. 

“I might have already made that many, given how many people I’ve crossed paths with,” Madara responded, keeping the flow of the conversation, but his words fizzled against the barrier of Leo’s inspiration and were left unheard. Madara chuckled at the sight, turning to grab one of the hotel’s complimentary magazines to flip through amidst the quiet sound of Leo’s humming. It was a sound Madara loved; an uneven, cheerful, quickly varying tune filled with the pure energy of creation. Though he would never tie Leo down (as he knew Leo would never do to him), it was a sound he dearly missed when he traveled alone. 

That was why he had to hide the true extent of his delight when Leo agreed to go with him on the trip he had planned over the winter holidays. There hadn’t been anyone Madara felt particularly inclined to join in their existing festivities, and he figured Leo was the same, forcefully entangled in some responsibility or another towards Knights or another friend he had made when Madara hadn’t been looking. (A pang in his chest at the thought.) But when Leo agreed, cheerfully stating that he was making a run for it before “the newbie gave him a big dumb lecture,” Madara didn’t waste a moment before selfishly whisking him away across the sea. Maybe that was wrong of him, but if he was allowing Leo to spread his wings and see more things, the experiences of their previous and current trips piling up, wasn’t he doing it for the better?

And when Leo looked up, pen on his face and a bright _light_ in his eyes, Madara knew he had made the right choice. 

He only hoped, in his infinitely buried anxiety, that Leo felt the same way.


	4. Nagisa/Ibara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Tomorrow is a hope, never a promise."  
> Setting: A facility in which Eden has private rooms along a singular hallway.  
> Warnings: Ibara-typical war elements and flashbacks.  
> Unsure if the content warrants a T rating or not; feel free to let me know.

It was one of those nights where Ibara’s eyes refused to shut, glued tight to the fluorescent green of the digital alarm clock at his bedside. It flickered as it turned 4:00, searing light that left afterimages clouding the edges of his vision at each one of his irregular, lightning-fast blinks. Maybe years ago, he would have felt annoyed at himself for being stuck in this state, his body refusing to let go of the defense mechanisms it had so carefully crafted to protect him in his childhood, but by now, he knew better than to lament his situation. His success in his daily life proved that he was fully capable of living despite this— _because_ of it—and he didn’t intend to simply release something that, if he tried, he could harness to become just another part of his survival toolkit. It just required patience, something that he certainly had in overflowing excess. Like a snake coiled and waiting to strike.

4:01. 

The coil loosened, tongue flicking to taste the air—

He heard the footsteps long before they had reached his door. They were trying to be quiet, raised onto the balls of their feet as they slowly inched down the hallway, but it made no difference. To Ibara, a small part of Ibara, an ever-restless child held inside a cage in his chest, every footstep could be a cause of sure death. To that child, it made no difference that Ibara easily identified those footsteps as Nagisa’s; he had long learned that “friend” and “foe” had little meaning among the malice and chaos of the battlefield. 

He pushed that child aside, ignored the rattling of the bars and scraping against the packed floor, and pushed himself up to a sitting position, grabbing his glasses and sliding them onto his face with his other arm. It was a movement smooth enough to make another part of him smug, another child hungry for praise and admiration, and he closed his eyes to collect himself before Nagisa felt fit to enter the room. There were altogether too many fragments of himself haunting him tonight, and he didn’t want to let His Excellency catch a glimpse of a single one flitting through the darkness he should have long-tamed. He slipped a practiced smile onto his face, and the door creaked open. 

Nagisa’s eyes, amber barely visible through the darkness, locked onto his own. Curiosity. 

Mouth gaping, he—

“Your Excellency! What might you need, so late at night?”

Ibara was quick, too quick, and he cursed his hastiness as he saw those eyes narrow ever so slightly. Nagisa was slow to reply, always considering, but it was clear to Ibara that this wouldn’t end with a quick request once Nagisa closed the door behind him, covering them both in the night again. 

“...I was invited to a dig site in Fukushima.” A pause. “...And I thought you might be awake to change my schedule.”

A delightful lack of explanation. Ibara was used to it. Almost fond of it, really; if there was someone who wasn’t trying to flatter his way into Ibara’s (or anyone’s) good graces, wasn’t trying to take advantage of his business prowess, and wasn’t out for his blood (excluding the times he, like a child, used the persona Ibara crafted for him like a chisel to get under his skin), it was Nagisa. 

A continued smile. “My, busy as ever, Your Excellency! I applaud your connections! However, I must notice that you are not sleeping; it is quite important for you to rest so that you stay healthy, yes?”

He didn’t like how much it felt like Nagisa knew sometimes. Nagisa, the enigma, the complexity, who knew all and yet took the snake into his arms and accepted its bite. 

Nagisa tilted his head, long hair moving to shade more of his face, and spoke like it was all common sense. “...You are not sleeping either, Ibara.”

“Well, you know what they say! ‘Do as I say, not as I do’—getting caught up in work this late was certainly unbecoming of me!”

“...If you do not stay healthy as well, we will be in trouble.”

“Indeed! I will heed your wise words and retire to bed immediately! Be assured, I will reflect upon my folly!”

Neither mentioned the obvious lack of work materials within the room. Nagisa’s face remained impassive. 

“...You were active today,” he stated, moving forward. Ibara merely watched as he crossed the room from where he’d been idling by the doorway to stand behind Ibara’s bed, staring down at him. “...And when you are active, you do not sleep.”

Ibara blinked, smile nearly slipping.

Nagisa continued to look down at him, a large, dark shape. “...If I sat with you, could you sleep?”

His voice was genuine, and Ibara had no reason to assume he wasn’t being so. He laughed quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness in the rooms around them. “Your Excellency, while I am incredibly grateful for your gracious display of kindness, it would be good of you to remember I am not a child! I do not require the presence of someone by my bedside to sleep.” 

_I never had the luxury of such a thing, regardless of whether I had ever wanted it or not._

Nagisa continued as if Ibara had not spoken, eyes angled to the side. “...When I could not sleep, I lay waiting for the day to come again. The stars from my window... small, and so far away... Sometimes, I saw them fade into sunrise. I would greet it, and the day would begin.

“One night, Father was present. He asked why I was awake, and I told him I was waiting for day. And he told me... each star is an idol, glowing as humans dream, and the faint cries of the birds as the light grows, a song. But for a song to be born, an idol must first burn into life... and without dreams, they were cheap imitations, and could never become real idols. Thus, he taught me...

“‘Tomorrow is a hope, never a promise.’ Because if we sit around and wait for the next day to come, just to be sure it is there, all that awaits is a brightness around us that we cannot comprehend, a cheap song spilling from raw throats that would take you nowhere. Because any time, your false song could be exposed.”

Nagisa looked back at Ibara as if searching for confirmation that he had understood. Ibara, brain muddled by lack of sleep, internal warfare, and a stiffness seeping into his shoulders, could only stare incredulously at him, a feeling he couldn’t identify clenching in his stomach.

_...To use that wording, for something like that?_

The sound of slamming, shouting, screaming echoing in his ears. Glass shattering.

_...When tomorrow is never a promise because any time, your life could be cut short? When any second, that light you see could be not the light of the sun through the trees, but a flash grenade? When—_

“...Allow me to sit with you, Ibara.” 

Nagisa didn’t wait for his permission before sitting down, and Ibara, still in the throes of memories he wished would wither away, fought not to flinch at the sloping of the mattress and the other’s wispy hair brushing against him. He hardly noticed that his hands had clenched into fists until Nagisa’s fingers lightly brushed against them. 

He cursed himself for his weakness. Nagisa noticing his state of being, even when others couldn’t, was not something that ever surprised him nowadays, but for him to take more action than merely pointing it out (or _bullying it out of him_ with his persona) meant that Ibara had utterly failed. It meant anyone could have recognized his distress, and that was a _failure_. 

He could barely feel it as Nagisa pulled the blanket up around him, one hand still touching his as if he’d slip away otherwise. Another time, he may have politely brushed it away, but that was strength he lacked at the moment. Ibara closed his eyes, breathing slowly, wrapping all the images up into tiny parcels and slipping them into cracks, beneath paintings and floorboards in that rotting mansion with a minefield backyard, breathing, and placing the repercussions he’d face, reparations he’d have to make, at second priority.

He opened his mouth, dizziness jumbling his words, and squeezed out a small plea. “...I can sleep. You can go.”

And Nagisa, gazing at him, sat motionless as his consciousness slipped away.


End file.
